


peel away the layers till you're nothing and no one

by noctiphany



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Body Shots, Clubbing, Dirty Dancing, Identity Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 10:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21390598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiphany/pseuds/noctiphany
Summary: He looks like the kind of kid who lives in joints like this, spending Daddy’s money on drugs and booze, living it up. Nothing like the Dick Grayson Slade knows, uptight and self-righteous, a golden boy through and through.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 465





	peel away the layers till you're nothing and no one

They’re both here for the same reason, both working the same mark, so to speak. The only difference is Grayson is here to save the guy and Slade’s here to do what he always does, fulfill a contract. Only, instead of the usual playing vigilante and assassin on the streets, tonight they’re in one of Gotham’s trashier night clubs and Grayson is about the furthest thing from a superhero he can be. On the dance floor with a drink in his hand, the kid’s dressed like something you’d only see in a place like this, tight leather pants and all. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Well, he _ looks _like he’s coked up to the gills, but Slade can see right through the show he’s putting on. He doubts he’s even drank any of the martini he keeps sloshing around everywhere. 

“You won’t get to him first,” Slade says as he slides up behind Dick on the dance floor after his fan club disperses for a few minutes, snaking one hand around Dick’s waist to hold him there, just in case he decides he wants to bolt. He feels Grayson tense up against him momentarily, but then he’s laughing, airy and stupid, and turning around to face Slade. He licks his lips when he sees him and Slade’s so distracted by the slip of tongue that he lets Grayson wrap his arms around his neck and start swaying his hips to the music. It doesn’t match the rhythm or the thump of the bass, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“Well hello there,” Dick says, glossy eyes, face flushed. He looks like the kind of kid who lives in joints like this, spending Daddy’s money on drugs and booze, living it up. Nothing like the Grayson he knows, uptight and self-righteous, the golden boy through and through. “I did always have a thing for older men.” 

Okay, so he doesn’t want to talk shop where they are. Probably the Bat has it bugged or something and Dick figured out a long while ago that it was _ much _ easier to handle things if he wasn’t around. Much less casualties all around. 

“And I always had a thing for a nice ass in leather pants,” Slade replies, letting his hands slide down Grayson’s back, all the way down to rest on the curve of his ass. Slade’s a serious, deadly assassin, but he’s not blind. Kid’s had an ass on him every since Slade can remember, the kind of ass that’s gotten him distracted on more than one occasion. He has a feeling that Grayson absolutely knows what an asset it is and utilizes that to the best of his ability. Slade’s impressed at how far he’s willing to go, using whatever means necessary to accomplish his mission, even if it has gotten him knocked off a roof before. “So I guess it’s good we both came here tonight.” 

“Yeah,” Dick grins, grabbing one of Slade’s hands and positioning it lower and Slade gets the picture, getting a good grip and dragging Dick flush against him as they move to the music. “There’s a lot of hot people here, though,” Dick says next to his ear, basically grinding against Slade’s thigh. “One especially. I’ve been keeping my eye on him all night.” 

Talking in code Slade can do. 

“Yeah? Well, I happen to be pretty good at what I do,” he says in Dick’s ear, a thinly veiled threat beneath the filthy tone, letting his lips brush the shell of Dick’s ear. “Taking out the competition is kind of my specialty.” 

Dick turns around in his grasp and Slade’s hand reflexively slips around his waist, right beneath the hem of his shirt, dipping, just barely, below the waistband of his pants. 

“I’m sure you are,” Dick says, moving his hips to the beat of the music, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “But if you want this you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

Slade’s hands move to bracket Dick’s hips as the music changes and Dick starts moving his body in a different pattern, grinding his ass back against Slade’s cock. Slade jerks him back and puts his mouth next to his ear again. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, gorgeous,” he says. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Dick just turns around and grins at him, looking over Slade’s shoulder, and suddenly his little entourage is back.

“Come on,” Dick says, grabbing at Slade’s arm and tugging him along with them to their table. “Shots!” 

Slade knows exactly what Grayson’s doing. He’s keeping an eye on him, keeping him away from the mark, but if Slade tries to get away from him it’ll probably just make a scene, which is the opposite of what Slade needs right now. Be a shame if somebody got spooked and took off before he had the chance to put a bullet in them. 

“Hey,” Dick says, tugging on his arm again, looking at a couple of girls at a table across from them. “What they’re doing looks fun. Maybe you should show me just how good you _ are_.” 

Dick’s eyes are dark and he licks his lips when he gets done talking and Slade’s not sure what the code is anymore, if there even is one. He lets Dick drag him over to the corner where the rest of the kids are, smirks as Dick introduces him as one of his aliases. Then Grayson’s picking up a lime wedge and holding a shot of tequila out to him, eyes still just as dark and dangerous. One of the girls to the left of Grayson giggles and pulls his shirt to the side, and Dick puts the lime wedge in his mouth as she sprinkles salt in a line on his collarbone. 

“Um, Evan,” the girl says, clearly already forgotten the name Dick had made up for him. “Do you know how? Or should we like, show you?” 

The girl standing next to her giggles and leans in and whispers something in her ear. Any other time Slade would be more than happy to take them up on that. 

“Yeah, I may have done this a time or two,” he says instead, knocking the shot back and stepping into Dick’s space, bracketing his hips with his hands as he dips his head and drags his tongue through the salt on his collarbone. He feels Dick shiver as he licks at his skin to get all of it off, then Slade looks up, hand sliding up the back of Dick’s shirt, over that sweat slick skin, and sucks the lime wedge out of his mouth. 

Dick’s friends giggle and cheer them on, but Slade can’t focus on anything except the way Dick is touching his own mouth where their lips had touched when Slade pulls away.

“My turn,” Dick grins after a beat, plucking a lime wedge off the tray and offering it to Slade before grabbing a shot glass. One of the friends holds the little salt shaker out to Slade and Slade pops the lime in his mouth and grabs it, sprinkling the salt between his thumb and forefinger for lack of any better idea.He’s not shrugging his jacket off for everyone to see the shoulder holster under his shirt, and he’s not about to lay out on the table like one of those girls just did so Dick can lick salt off his abs. Not that it doesn’t have a certain appeal.

Instead, Slade watches as Dick actually takes the shot, sees the determination on his face as he takes Slade’s wrist then leans in and licks the salt from his skin, tonguing the dip of skin between Slade’s thumb and forefinger before dragging his tongue up the length of Slade’s finger and taking it into his mouth. He looks up at Slade, eyes wide, and when he lets it out of his mouth and goes to suck the lime out of Slade’s mouth, Slade drops it, grabbing the back of Dick’s neck and fucking his tongue into his mouth instead. 

Dick did, after all, did ask him to show him just how _ good _ he was. 

To Slade’s surprise, Dick kisses back, eagerly, _ hungrily_. He sucks on Slade’s tongue, grabs the front of Slade’s jacket as he steps between his legs and leans against him, making soft, humming noises as Slade kisses him, his hand halfway down the back of Dick’s leather pants, and Slade no longer gives a shit about the mark. He’s not going anywhere and even if he does, Slade will find him again. What he does give a shit about is the kid writhing against him, nipping at his bottom lip, clinging onto him like he wants to climb him. 

“Let me fuck you,” Slade growls next to his ear and Dick makes a sound that could be a whimper, but the music is too loud for him to really tell. That’s why they need to get out of here. So Slade can make Dick make all the noises he wants. He grips Dick’s ass with both hands, wedges his thigh between his legs. “What do you think about that, gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” Dick says, blue eyes swallowed by black. “God, yeah.” 

  
  


: : :

  
  


Slade takes Dick back to his loft and as soon as the door is shut he’s got his hands on his ass, picking Dick up and slamming him up against the wall, attacking his mouth again. He still tastes like limes and tequila and Slade can actually hear him now, the little whimpering-whining noises he makes in his throat as Slade kisses him and grinds on him. He wants to hear more.

“These fucking pants,” Slade growls, squeezing his ass. “Get them _ off. _”

They make it to the bedroom with only a few minor broken lamps and as soon as they’re both naked Slade has Dick’s mouth on him, his fingers buried in his hair, telling him how fucking _ good _he feels, how he’s been thinking about fucking his mouth all night. 

“I want,” Dick pulls off eventually, licking his lips. “I want you in me.” 

And because Slade can’t help but fuck with him, he grins, says, “And I suppose you always get what you want, don’t you, princess?”

“Not really,” Dick says earnestly and it takes Slade out of it for moment, but then he’s fingering himself open and Slade can’t get inside of him soon enough. “But you’ll give me what I want.”

Slade wants to protest that, but he does pride himself on not being a liar. 

“Yeah, gorgeous,” he says instead, flipping them over and getting Dick under him. “Yeah, I’ll give you what you want.” 

  
  


: : :

  
  


Slade was right, the kid sounds fucking beautiful when he’s getting fucked. Moans like one of the really good, really expensive whores, whines like he can’t get Slade in him deep enough. And when Slade lifts his hips at a different angle and drives into him hard enough to ram his cock against his prostate, Dick cries out for him. 

“Fuck, _Evan_,” he moans and it’s not exactly the name Slade he thought he’d hear when he was balls deep inside the kid. He gets why Dick introduced him to his friends using one of his aliases, but that doesn’t explain why he’s still using it now. Or, when Slade thinks about it, maybe it does. The kid’s been acting weird all night, not like himself at all, slutty and carefree and Slade figures this might be the only way he knows how to let go. Not to mention, the only way he can allow himself to get fucked by a deadly assassin who’s tried to off him on more than one occasion. But to be honest, Slade could care less what the kid calls him as long as he keeps making those fucking noises and arching his back so pretty as he drags his nails down his back. 

“Harder,” Dick pants as Slade drives his cock into him, headboard smacking against the wall with each thrust, making Slade glad he doesn’t have neighbors. “God, _ harder_.”

Slade sucks a bruise on the side of Dick's throat, then pulls out and flips the kid over onto his stomach, hooking his arm under his thighs and bringing his ass up to where he wants it before shoving his cock back inside of him. 

“Yeah, take it,” Slade groans, reveling in how good and tight Dick feels around him even after getting his hole pounded for the last half hour. Then Dick starts using his hips, fucking himself back onto Slade’s cock like he needs even more than Slade can give him, and Slade nearly loses his mind. “Fuck, just look at you, so fucking greedy for it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Dick grunts out, slipping into a moan when Slade grips his hips and fucks into him even harder, just like he asked. “You feel so good, Evan. I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it for days.”

“Fuck yeah,” Slade grunts, fucking the kid so hard there’s beads of sweat streaming down his face. Dick’s hands are twisted up in the silk sheets beneath them, nearly ripping shreds in them, his cheek pressed into the mattress. The name does take Slade out of a little bit, but then he's brought right back into it each time the kid moans for him. He wants that too, wants to fuck Dick so hard and so good he ruins him for anybody else, that every time he fucks somebody else he can only think about _ his _cock. And since Dick’s still playing their little game, Slade decides to play along with him. “Yeah, I bet that’s what you want, pretty boy. To sit in Daddy’s office in your big boy clothes, ass still sore from being wrecked by my cock.” 

Dick makes a strangled noises beneath him, works his arm underneath his body to start stroking himself. 

“Yeah, while you’re up there in that high rise office pretending that you know anything about what’s going on in those meetings Daddy makes you go to, you’re going to think about this, about _ me. _ ” Slade growls out, nearly out of breath he's fucking him so hard. “Aren’t you, _ Richard? _”

“God, please,” Dick cries out, hands sprawled out in front of him now, body gone completely limp, just letting Slade use him as a hole to fuck. 

“That’s right, pretty boy, beg,” he rumbles, getting a hand in Dick’s hair and yanking his head back, then hauling Dick up on his knees, wrapping his arm around his chest while he pounds into him hard, relentless, making Dick sob every time he rams his prostate. “Beg me to come like the dumb little rich slut you are.” 

“Oh _ fuck_,” Dick gasps, letting his head loll back onto Slade’s shoulder, reaching around to wrap his arm around Slade’s neck for leverage. “Please.”

Slade snakes his hand around to wrap it around Dick, jerk him off while he fucks into him, loves the way he goes tight, clenching around him as soon as Slade even touches his cock. “Gonna have to do better than that, princess,” Slade says, then leans in to whisper next to his ear. “I said _b__eg. _”

“_Please_,” Dick shouts, trying, but unable to fuck himself back on Slade’s cock, at his mercy completely, only able to take what Slade gives him. “God, please let me come,” he sobs, sounding nearly broken. ”I -- I need to come so bad, fuck Slade, _ please - _”

“Shit,” Slade hisses, his own orgasm slamming into him out of nowhere, cock pulsing inside of Grayson as he spills inside of him, and -

“Oh _ fuck, _” Dick moans, and Slade grunts like something wild and feral as he feels the kid come around him, clenching and tightening, milking every last drop out of Slade as he spills all over Slade’s fist and comes apart. 

  
  


: : :

  
  


“I won’t let you get to him,” Dick says a little while later, after he’s cleaned up and gotten back in Slade’s bed, too fucked out and exhausted to go home. The lights are off and the room still smells like sex, like _ them. _

“Richard,” Slade says, moving behind the kid and snaking a hand around him, pressing a kiss behind Dick’s ear as he reaches down and strokes his cock until it’s hard again. “Go to sleep. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 


End file.
